


Allison Smiles

by MWDG



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: AU where Diego and Luther don't show up and absolutely RUIN EVERYTHING, Allison's smile saves the day, F/F, Gen, It's the opposite of slow burn, The GODDAMN IMBICILES, They're just cussin, Vanya's gay, a highly lazy establishment of a relationsip
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-03
Updated: 2019-08-23
Packaged: 2019-11-08 13:28:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 15,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17982200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MWDG/pseuds/MWDG
Summary: AU where Allison’s smile is just enough to calm Vanya down a bit. I can’t explain how, maybe the backstage doors are locked or something, and Diego and Luther (the absolute shits) spend too much time bickering, and Allison just goes back by herself.Life continues as it would have. Vanya struggles with her inferiority complex, Klaus comes and stays with her so they can heal together.Vanya meets a Gal and things evolve. It’s pretty Klaus and Vanya Centric, the other siblings are not present, except in the first and second chapters.





	1. Chapter 1

There was a sharpness to the air in the theater, a distinct shift in the atmosphere that began as a coldness on the skin, and danced into the bones like the brief paralysis of an electric shock. Controlled, and pulsating with the ebbs and flows of Vanya’s violin. One felt as though they’d relinquished control, as if they couldn’t move if they tried, and the audience was in awe. Vanya played beautifully, but on the sound was carried a profound sense of helplessness, as if one was in the presence and at the mercy of a god. In many ways they were; Vanya teetered at the cliff’s edge of benevolence and malevolence with the merest furrow of her brow. It’s impossible to describe what Vanya felt in that moment, but for all her power, she was still, in the end, human, just as the rest of her siblings were. She was angry, she felt vengeful, and evil, and a need to do evil. She felt it as a much younger person might feel it, a frustration with the whole world for denying her an opportunity to know herself and even a modicum of her worth. It was an anger that overcame her, wholly. More than anger she felt hatred: at herself for once being so weak, and easily manipulated. She despised the smallness of herself, the kindness, and gullibility, the softness. As she played she swore to kill that part of herself, and deep inside, she knew that death would mean the death of everyone else. She felt it peeling away inside, she felt a transformation occurring, a simultaneous violence in the flaying of old flesh into new. She played and played, no note out of place, the sound filling her, she had absolute control. Her mind was not filled with thought but the building of a neutral and chaotic energy that shifted endlessly between states of good and evil. Her humanity seemed far away from her, but she didn’t mind. It stared out from her eyes, but seemed tucked away. Vanya didn’t intend to access it. Ah but the nature of life is to always surpass expectation. As Allison entered the theater, she had felt many things. Fear, and grief, and a feeling of mutual betrayal, and guilt, and an ache in her heart that ate at her. She opened the doors, and upon seeing her sister’s form alight upon the stage, alive and breathing life into the dark space, the power that emanated from her like a cold wind, Allison felt a love that she hadn’t felt for her sister in a long time. She walked forward, she felt pride, she felt guilty for not ever paying more attention. She bore the guilt of her whole family on her shoulders; she felt as though she might sink into the ground, or float away. Vanya caught her eye, and Allison smiled. She hoped that smile said everything it needed to say. Vanya felt the teetering steady a bit, she smiled back, felt herself faltering, then growing stronger, and steadier. All the time, Allison stood, swaying with the music, eyes sometimes closed, that sad smile on her face remained. Vanya calmed, the energy leveling, by the end of the concert, she could have held it in the palm of her hand. And with the final stroke of the bow, Vanya breathed out, electricity glittering across the air as the audience sat silently breath held before rising in an uproars applause. The human returned to Vanya’s body and she blushed deeply, suddenly full of nervous elation. She felt like the many facets of a gem, or a river, or the sun shining through a storm. She bowed, and bowed again, the conductor bowed, beaming. And it was over. Even as the conductor made his speech of thanks, and the lights went up, the applause still seemed to resonate, and the energy was palpable. In the back of the house, Klaus stood weeping, Diego and Luther stern-faced as usual, Number 5 with a stiff little smile. Vanya knew they were there. She wasn’t yet ready to face them. When the house was empty, she went to Allison, guilt overcoming her, she was hardly able to look her in the eye.

“I—“ Vanya started.

Allison rushed toward her and threw her arms around her, interrupting Vanya before she could finish.

“I’m so sorry,” whispered Vanya, “I’m so sorry.”

Allison pulled away, the conflict evident on her face. She shook her head. The rest of the siblings had begun to approach, Klaus first. He turned to the others, raising his hand in Vanya’s direction.

“You see?” He said, “You should try and curb your killer instincts more often, fellas. Maybe next time we’ll discover Diego can play the flute.”

Diego refused to look at either of them. “You killed mom, Vanya.”

Vanya was silent. If she flinched at Diego’s accusation, it was only instinct. She was no longer intimidated by him.

“Yeah well, the world is safe now,” said Five.

“She’s still a threat,” said Luther gruffly, “We don’t know what she could do.”

“If I wanted to do anything, I would have,” protested Vanya.

He scoffed, “please, you brought the house down because of a tantrum, you’re out of control.”

“I brought the house down, because you fucking locked me up,” snapped Vanya. Pressure built around her. The air rung.

“We’ve all been through worse, Vanya, grow up,” he growled.

“Oh, fuck you, Luther,” Vanya raised her hand, power gathering, Allison put her arm out attempting to block the blow. It served only to hinder the blow enough to knock Luther down, rather than through the wall.

“You’re just proving him right,” Five muttered.

Luther rose and stalked after her, “You’re an erratic child.”

“Will you two stop it?” Snapped Diego, standing between them, “Do we want the world to stay in one piece or not? You’re right. Vanya’s erratic, but if you don’t stop pushing her goddamn buttons, we’re just gonna end up under a pile of rubble.”

“Oh my God, you’re still doing that thing. I’m right here, why can’t you just talk to me like I’m right here,” Vanya snapped.

Diego rolled his eyes.

“Can’t we just appreciate that we’re all alive? Now we can go have a big family dinner, how’s that sound?” said Klaus, “Although I guess we don’t really have a house anymore… That’s not a problem, I know a place.”

“Klaus has a point. I’d kill for a steak,” said Five.

“What’s gotten into you? Why are you so chill all of the sudden?”

Five shrugged. “The world didn’t end. We did it.”

It was Allison’s turn to roll her eyes. She made a small noise in her throat, and wrote something on her notepad.

“I did it. You were busy arguing.” She wrote.

“Love fucking wins,” said Klaus, “c’mon guys let’s go get some food. I’m starving. I like the sound of steak, it’s very bourgeois.”

They eat dinner mostly in silence with is uncharacteristic of the family. Perhaps it’s a habit from when they were children, though they all think that it should’ve worn off by now. The only thing missing is Allison making eyes and Luther. She still felt deeply, but it was no longer as fresh and innocent as she had once thought. She seemed to realize his great flaws as she watched her sister struggling inside the chamber Luther had locked her in. She felt Luther reaching for her, but she no longer reached back, and the thought of doing so in that way almost repulsed her. Finally Klaus spoke up. He cleared his throat.

“Uh... Ben wants to know what’s going to happen with the house.”

“This is not the time, Klaus,” said Luther.

“Well when is the time? Are we going our separate ways, or what? I, for one, was rather enjoying having a place to let me wallow in my childhood traumas.”

“We’ll just go back to how things were before all this shit got started,” Diego said. It didn’t seem like he believed it. As soon as the words left his mouth he thought of Patches.

It was how it was going to have to be, though. Diego would return to his apartment behind the gym, Allison would return to California. Vanya, in all her godly power, would probably return to her apartment and await her acclaim for the concert. Five would pop off to who knows where, Luther would sulk amongst the ruins of the old house for a while, and Klaus… Klaus would go wherever Klaus went. Simple enough to return to how things were, and yet there they were, gathered around a wobbly table in a diner eating steaks, shakes, and fries. It was like a chore that no one wanted to do. Saying the words didn’t make them mean anything. The reality was that neither Five, Luther or Klaus had any place to go. They needed to grieve the loss of their mother, and of Pogo, even if they’d lied. They were more parent figures than the siblings had ever had. Their loss seemed to float at the table, an invisible force that held them in their place.

Allison wondered where Luther would go. He was virtually homeless. He had no job. No purpose. Allison needed to be back with her child, but somehow she felt that her work was not yet done. There was certainly a sense, in this family, that one’s work could never be finished. Allison knew this, and fought against that deep seated feeling of obligation.

“I’ll stay here and see if I can heal a little more,” Allison wrote, “I’ll go back to CA in a couple of days.”

Luther looked at her, questioningly, but Allison gave him no answers.

“I have to be with my kid,” she wrote.

“We’ll miss you,” said Vanya quietly. The words were awkward, not quite meaningful. Allison took it though, and smiled at her sister.

They went their separate ways that night, after a brief but heated debate between Diego and Luther about the check (Allison ended up paying). She drove Luther back to the ruins of the house, trying not to worry about where he'd go. She couldn't help but ask.

"I want to go where ever you go," Luther said gently.

Allison hardened against herself. She smiled sadly and left him by the ruins, and driving off into the night, quelling tears. Number Five did in fact pop off to who knows where. He figured he'd get a motel somewhere and spend the night drinking mini-vodkas from the fridge as a way of celebrating. Diego stalked off to his apartment, feigning strength until he came home. He'd cried for Patches as he held her. He didn't cry then, but he felt physically heavy, as if his body was too heavy for him, and a breeze would break him.

Vanya returned to her lonely apartment.


	2. Chapter 2

Vanya couldn’t sleep that night, not that she tried very hard. There was too much to think about. She thought about her father, who was cold and direct in his manipulation of her. His hand pulled and plucked at her visibly, his every word she hung onto like a slap in the face. She thought about her siblings, who she knew didn’t mean to exclude her, but yet they did. Finally her thoughts settled on Leonard’s body. She thought about it dead, with scissors and knives and forks protruding from his swollen stomach like a pin cushion, blood seeping from him so he was rendered unrecognizable. She thought about him hours before, holding her hand, his words twisting her, plucking and pulling at her. His kindness that had an intensity beneath it, the wrongness of him. He was withholding in his manipulation of her. He was the blade of a saw that tore away at her. Vanya shook. She thought about Leonard’s body again, the contact of his cold skin. There was no differentiation in her mind anymore between his touch and the violence of his corpse. She leapt out of bed, stumbling to the bathroom, and threw up.  
In the days that followed Vanya found it hard to do anything except go to and from the kitchen and bathroom. She received call after call, but returned none of them. Sleeping caused her to dream, and dreaming brought her images of captivity, of small spaces, or being strangled, and choked. Of being deep underwater and seeing boats above and unable to speak. Or being unable to run. Of embraces turning to the crushing of bones. She slept little. She’d usually have started playing when she felt like this, but she didn’t dare pick up her violin for fear of what might happen. She didn’t drink like Five, she didn’t do drugs like Klaus. She wondered what the others did to keep themselves in check. It didn’t help that her newfound power had manifested itself as a voice that told her to stop being such a pussy and get over it. Stop laying in bed and go eat something. God, why are you so weak. The others manage just fine, why can’t you? You have the power of gods and you’re acting like a child. You fucking lazy piece of shit.  
This voice din’t help at all. She sometimes wished she still had her medication. She wished more that she had someone to talk to. Her mind leapt to Leonard and her stomach turned. She thought of Allison, who was probably preparing to go back to California to try and see her daughter. She thought about Klaus, but who knows where he was, or if he had a phone. She had no one. No one. No one. She was alone, alone, alone, and she was a piece of shit, and she was the reason why she was like this in the first place, because she was weak.  
Weeks passed and the misery turned to something worse, an all encompassing emptiness. She felt she should be feeling something, denial or grief, or acceptance, or whatever. She’d missed practice multiple times, and her fear of her own power hindered her playing. What once felt like release, now felt like being walled in. She resented that she’d been made to feel powerless again, even in all her power. She hated that even with all her ability, her siblings had still found a way to make her feel small.  
Vanya’s phone kept ringing. She had been trying to sleep, and all of the sudden there came a sharp rap at the door. She got out of bed, and shuffled to the door, in a sleepy haze. She wasn’t sure what she was expecting, maybe her neighbor, the neighbor’s cat, who knows. She opened the door.  
“Hello Oh Powerful Sister.” It was Klaus. He looked just about the same as he usually did; rather scruffy, a bit jumpy.  
“Wh—“  
“I’m here to ask if I can… do anything for you? Also you look fantastic,” he said.  
“It’s 6 am, what—“  
“Actually it’s 9 am.”  
Vanya rubbed her eyes, and opened the door wider so Klaus could enter.  
“Do you need something?” She asked. Klaus plopped down on Vanya’s couch, making himself comfortable.  
“Um… Yeah actually… I was hoping I could stay with you for a little.”  
“I uh… The house is kind of a mess…” She trailed off, looking around. Vanya didn’t quite know what to say. She was mostly surprised at herself. She was happy to see Klaus. When they were kids he’d come play with her while the others were off arguing, or wrestling and getting into mischief. She couldn’t help but smile. She’d seen other people over the past month or so, but seeing Klaus felt like waking up. She’d never really thought she’d be pleased to be letting her junkie brother asking to stay with her.  
“yeah, you can stay, sure,” said Vanya finally, “However long you need.”  
“Oh! Thanks,” replied Klaus, “I wasn’t actually sure you’d agree. It’s just, I’d been staying in the joint I used to hang out in a lot, but the whole sobriety thing wasn’t really conducive.”  
“You’re still sober?”  
Klaus shrugged, his expression a mixture of discomfort and amusement, “yeah, well… you know. I have no fucking idea why.”  
Vanya laughed a little, then was quiet for a moment, realizing she didn’t have much to talk to him about, she knew little about him. “Is Ben still around?” she asked.  
“Can’t seem to get rid of the guy.”  
Ben rolled his eyes.  
“I guess I’ve just been thinking about death a lot recently,” said Vanya, “There are a lot of people who are dead. Be—because of me.” Vanya stopped, she felt a lump forming in her throat.  
Klaus was quiet for a moment. He looked away from Vanya, then smiled a little.  
“Well. I’m not the person to go to if you want to be admonished. I can’t seem to bring myself to care much if people are alive or dead, they’re still gonna be up my ass, even beyond the grave,” this last statement was pointed at Ben who started to protest.  
Vanya wasn’t comforted. She stood awkwardly, feeling that familiar smallness creeping up on her. “Have you seen her? Mom?”  
Klaus sighed, “No.”  
“Pogo?”  
“No.”  
Vanya was silent for a moment, searching Klaus’s face. He didn’t look at her. Vanya looked at the ground, then breathed out.  
“I’m gonna take a shower,” she said stiffly, “There’s coffee in the kitchen, and cereal…”

Klaus could’ve stayed wherever he wanted to. He was friendly with the homeless community, and he was certainly familiar with nights spent on concrete or cardboard. He had friends all over town, here and there. Some good and some not so good. He had his ways of managing. He didn’t necessarily need to stay with Vanya. If he wanted to (and he did want to, desperately) he could very easily go to his dealer’s apartment, get high and crash there for a week or so and return to his cycle. It would be easy to check himself into rehab, check out, overdose, resuscitate, and move on. Find this partner or that, and move in with them for a few weeks or months, until they kicked him out. But he didn't. In the same was that Vanya circled inside her own mind, scraping at the walls, spiraling around self destruction and fastening her ears and eyes shut against any modicum of emotion, he also had a vortex of his own. There was never a time when it was easy for him to do anything in life, except find things to make it easier. He couldn't walk down the street without being struck with physiological addiction, like being in a constant state of tripping and falling over and over. Klaus returned from Vietnam as one emerges from being buried in miles of earth. Thin, his head weighing him, that vertigo that longed no longer for bodily reprise, and ate him wholly. Like a block of water, like an impenetrable wave. It used to be pills, or liquor, or sex, but now Klaus had nothing to block the waters from surging forth. He was sober, not because he chose to, but because there was nothing that would dam torrent that was his love, killed.   
He wasn’t sure why he was at Vanya’s apartment, but he knew he had changed, and this more emotional body wouldn’t be able to ever return to how things used to be. One thing engrained in him from the war was a sense of un-asking duty. He'd parted from the siblings, they'd all gone their separate ways, and he'd thought he'd be glad to do it, but he wasn't. Something still felt untied. He knew enough that if he felt the need to stay, surely the other's felt similarly. He thought about Vanya first, because he understood her. He knew he should resent her deeply for killing Pogo and Grace, but he couldn’t. When he thought about his sister he wasn’t angry with her at all. He got it. She was confused, and emotionally stunted like the rest of them. She was figuring things out. He joked with himself that it was only a matter of time before she too turned to self medication, and when that time came, he’d gladly hook her up. He didn’t feel a whole lot of things toward Vanya, most of the time mild annoyance. She could be a bit whiney, the other times he saw himself in her. He was at Vanya’s apartment, whether he knew it or not, because really, they needed each other.


	3. Chapter 3

“Vanya,” said Klaus quietly. He hovered over her bed, attempting to rouse her. In a moment he’d start yelling, but he thought he’d have the decency to try and wake her politely first. She muttered in her sleep.  
“VANYA.”  
She startled awake, “God, what is it?”  
“I’m ordering takeout, what do you want?”  
“What? Why—”  
“The Han Dynasty is on the line and you need to make some decisions. You want stir fry, or what?” He sat on the edge of her bed.  
“Uh, wonton soup I guess,” she rubbed her eyes.  
“Ok, can we also get wonton soup and some pork pot stickers? Ok, thanks,” Klaus said into the phone, “The address? Oh, 400 Marshell street, apartment 209. Alrightie. Thanks.” He hung up.  
“Why’d you wake me up, Klaus?”  
“It’s 2 in the afternoon,” he replied, “And I was hungry, and I thought about going out and taking some of the money you’ve got hidden in the cigar box. But then I thought that would be rude, so I considered bringing home leftovers. But I thought I didn’t really feel like going out, so I figured the best solution was to order takeout.”  
Vanya didn’t answer.  
“You can’t sleep all day,” said Klaus, “Even I know that.”  
“Why do you care what I do” Vanya snapped. She rose to her elbows.  
“Oh I don’t know, maybe because I’m concerned about your health and wellbeing?”  
“You never cared—”  
Klaus let out a sharp laugh, “Hey, Don’t pull that shit, with me. I cared about you more than the others did.”  
At those words tears brimmed in Vanya’s eyes and her face flushed with an immediate rage. The room shook. Vanya had nothing to curb her anger, and nothing to focus on, and in her panic she gave up and knocked over the dresser almost getting the side of Klaus’s head. Klaus leapt up in time, cursing loudly, and stood staring at her.  
“I don’t even know why you’re here. Fucking worthless junkie.” She said, refusing to meet his gaze. She looked as if she were buried in the sheets. To Klaus, she looked like a child.  
“Fuck you too, I guess.” He grunted, and sauntered out the door, letting it slam behind him.  
The takeout arrived, and Klaus ate alone. He opened all the boxes so the smell would torture her, and tried to eat as loudly as he could. He heard Vanya get out of bed and struggle to put the dresser back in it’s place, and then a string of curses as she gave up and threw open the door.  
“What are you doing?” She snapped.  
“Eating. Jesus fuck,” he said. “Your soup is cold.”  
She stood for a minute, still angry, before her hunger got the better of her. She sat at the chair farthest from him and ate her soup in silence.  
“Did you pay the guy?” She asked finally.  
“No, but I offered him a hand job.”  
Vanya was silent.  
“I’m kidding,” muttered Klaus, “ha ha ha. You’re so funny, Klaus.”  
Neither of them wanted to be the first to apologize, and neither of them thought there was anything to be sorry about.  
Vanya sighed a little. “Sorry I yelled at you,” she said quietly, “It’s not your fault. I don’t know why I lashed out.” She stopped eating and covered her face with her hands, “You’re not a worthless junkie.”  
“Hey, hey, it’s ok. I am both of those things,” said Klaus gently. Vanya smiled, but the smile faded quickly.  
“I’m gonna warm up my soup,” she said awkwardly.  
“I didn’t save you any pot stickers, sorry.”  
“I don’t care.”  
Vanya was quiet, standing in the kitchen watching the microwave spin.  
“Leonard used to tell me that,” she said finally, “that he was the only one that cared about me.” She paused. “And then I killed him.”  
Klaus was silent, then broke the silence with an awkward laugh, “You sound like Batman.”  
Vanya breathed out a small chuckle, the tension alleviating a little.  
“You don’t seem very torn up about it,” said Klaus.  
Vanya brought her soup to the table and sat again, spooning at it. “I guess I don’t care that I killed him, because he was a piece of shit. But I— I can’t stop thinking about what he looked like— dead— and I can’t stop thinking about him and then I have these dreams where we’re—“ Vanya swallowed, unable to say it, her mind filling with touch and the far away memory of pleasure that now reviled her, “I mean, it’s his corpse. And then I can’t breathe. I can’t make it stop.”  
Klaus was quiet, he smiled sadly. Lord knows he wasn’t the right person to ask for help on how to alleviate suffering. Even as he thought about what Vanya said, he began to see Leonard himself peering out from down the hall, clothes black with blood, swollen beyond recognition. He wore a grimace. Klaus swallowed and shut his eyes for a moment. He couldn’t make it stop either, not until he saw Dave again. Finally he sighed. Deciding to say nothing, he reached across the table and gave Vanya’s arm a little squeeze.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't have a clear trajectory for the end of this story, I'm just riding this creative wave while I can ;-;


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok, this may seem out of the blue, but in the tags I promised ya'll that Vanya's gay, so I'm tossing in some gay content. I'm not sure about the general prognosis on OC's, but I think they really did Ellen Page dirty, and I have no self control, so here ya go. Here's an OC shamelessly inserted for the purpose of fulfilling our collective desires.

Elise Willard was a dancer from the other side of the country. As soon as she was old enough to vote, she packed her bags and moved as far as she could get from home, hoping never to look back. Her younger sister, Helen, joined her soon after. In the early years, Elise had been petulant about having her younger sister around. There was nothing that made her feel more like a child than having her younger sister around to pester her and remind her of home. They’d had more fun than she’d ever readily admit; indulging in all the exciting things a city had to offer two young women. Elise had arrived alone and nearly penniless, knowing no one, living in the college dorms surrounded by boisterous strangers. The air tasted different, like exhaust, like garbage, like oak trees, and cigarettes, and halal trucks. Damp and cool in the morning, chilly and electrifying at night. She loved it. She danced wherever and whenever she could. She found a local studio and studied under a stern, aging woman who had once been a great ballerina. She danced for local theaters. She danced at the night club out by the highway. She liked this the most, it gave her a thrill, a sense of being utterly alive. But for all the aliveness, she eventually quit; she knew it was part of the job to be grabbed and prodded at, and harassed, but she never ceased to be ever so slightly nauseated by it. She had never really liked men’s attention, in that way. She supposed (much later) that she’d stayed for the other girls. She felt most gratified when dancing with them, she enjoyed the strength of their bodies, she had such great fun with one girl in particular, TJ. So much fun, that after many nights of light drinking, cackling at long-winded anecdotes, and rides back into the city, Elise realized she was in love with her. The relationship never went anywhere. TJ was straight, and while she feigned mutual attraction, it was shallow and Elise was left more hurt than she was gratified.  
Elise had been sort of a loner back at home. People knew her as a quiet type. She got excellent grades. She didn’t have many friends, or people to talk to, except for Helen. Not that she would have been allowed to have anyone over. She’d been told so many times by her father that “friends distract from ones studies,” that eventually she just figured she’d never have anyone and she was resigned to that. Their father was a deeply troubled old man. He was tall and broad, and had a face that had once been roguish, but now bore a crease in his brow, and a permanent scowl. He worked hard and provided for the family, and in return he felt as though he were entitled to be waited on hand and foot. If the girls ever looked at him wrong, it would set him off in a dismal and violent mood that darkened the rest of everyone’s week. God forbid they ever cross him. Their mother, achingly kind, was afraid of him, although she couldn’t ever articulate why. When she raised her voice, he acted as though she was being ungrateful. When she expressed displeasure, he sulked and grumbled and told her he gave her nothing but love and she should be grateful she’s getting anything at all. Helen took her mother’s fear as a challenge, and crossed him every chance she could. Sometimes Elise envied her sister. She was always sneaking out of the house, and getting into mischief, and bringing home boys, and gossip and weed. Most of the time she was excellent at keeping this from their father, but there was one time when Helen was caught. He called her a slut and a degenerate and he yelled at her until she cried. That was a month before graduation, and it was then that Elise decided she never wanted to have anything to do with him again. In that month she ceased being afraid of him. She looked him in the eye. She came home when she wanted. She no longer cared. Though she trembled when he lifted his hand as if to hit her, Elise lifted her hand right back.  
In the city, she took care of herself. She was within her own body. She spoke more, laughed loudly. She didn’t hold herself as if she were just trying to make it to the next day. 

Vanya encountered Elise under strange circumstances. It had been months since the incident at the Hargreaves Mansion. She’d been seeing her therapist. Klaus was still technically staying with her, but his stays were brief. She wasn’t sure exactly where he was going, or what he was doing, but he kept assuring her he was fine, and safe, and she had no choice but to believe him. Vanya had started making the long hike out to the national park across the bridge. She brought her violin and nothing else. She was filled with nerves at first. Bristling with fear, and excitement and anticipation. She hadn’t known why she brought her violin with her. She’d been going to rehearsal more regularly, and she’d been practicing in her apartment. Sometimes the cupboards would begin to shake, and she’d feel the power building, and she’d keep playing and playing, and the winds would pick up. She’d gotten better at not shattering glass. It took concentration to wield her power with a gentle touch. But this practice was exhausting, and the confinement she felt in the hinderment of her power reminded her evermore of her violent potential and it filled her with a subtle loathing of the violin. It never lasted long, but she felt worn out, like she’d been whispering for too long. So she ventured out to the park. She enjoyed the air. She tried desperately not to think about Leonard. The first time, as soon as she played a note she remembered Leonard, and she dropped her bow. She sat in the grass and stared at one spot. It pressed down on her, so that she found it difficult to get up. She tried breathing, she tried shutting her eyes. She felt that familiar rage building in the powerlessness of her state. Finally she forced herself to stand and from her body emitted a rush of wind that sent branches crashing down from every tree within a mile of her. It felt good.  
She went back nearly twice a week, as often as she could. She practiced and practiced, allowing herself to grow as strong as she dared. She knew her potential as one know the functions of their body. She felt it building, and quelling, stretching like a muscle, with a way of it’s own like the flow of blood. She understood intuitively what her siblings had meant when they said they’d saved the world, or that she could’ve destroyed the planet. She didn’t dare admit it to herself that she held this capability, but she couldn’t help but know it, as it was built into her very bones. She seemed to make a silent promise with herself to never breach that point of breaking. She promised she’d never kill again.  
Elise came to her; it was, after all, a public park. Vanya was wrapped in music, the trees billowing, and quaking with her rhythm, the ground beneath her seemed to tremble. Elise had been walking her dog (his name was Antonio), and he’d been following a scent that let them both off their usual path. Elise swore she heard the sound of a violin rising from the canopy, and she felt led toward it (whether by her dog, or Devine pretense she wasn’t sure). She found herself standing at the edge of the clearing and as her eyes fell on Vanya’s small form in the distance, she felt as though a thousand sensations drifted into her body. She felt the energy enter her and send shock glinting up her spine. The breeze smelled of earth and sweet-grass and rain, the sun was warm, she swore she heard the bugs and creatures crawling underfoot. The music swept and danced, and Elise swayed, moving as close as she dared. Finally Antonio barked and rushed forward, forcing Elise with him, and Vanya stopped suddenly and turned to face them. She smiled down at the dog who was grinning and wagging his tail ferociously, she knelt to pet him cooing praises to him.  
“You play incredibly,” said Elise breathlessly, “Sorry for creeping on you.”  
“No! It’s alright. I’m just practicing.” “It was beautiful,” said Elise, “It felt… supernatural almost.”  
Vanya faltered.  
“That must’ve sounded weird—“  
Vanya shook her head and smiled, “I’m glad you liked it.”  
Elise smiled and turned to go, but it didn’t seem right.  
“um… Do you mind if I listen to you play?”  
Vanya looked down, “Well, usually I practice alone…”  
“No, I get it!” Said Elise, “Sometimes it’s hard to perform your best when you’ve got all these expectant, peering, little eyes on you.”  
“Oh! Are you a musician?” Vanya asked.  
“A Dancer.”  
Vanya looked at Elise in wonderment, “I don’t think I’ve met a dancer before.”  
Elise laughed. To Vanya, it was a wonderful sound.  
“Well, I’ve never met anyone who can play like that,” she said, pausing, “how long have you been playing?”  
“Since I was about 12,” Vanya replied, “It’s always been a good way to calm my nerves.”  
“I’ve found that true with dancing,”  
“Yeah?”  
“Yeah,” Elise paused, “My sister and I used to put on records when our parents weren’t home and dance it out.”  
Vanya smiled.  
“There’s something, like, deep, about the body and it’s relationship to sound,” said Elise.  
Vanya nodded. She suddenly felt like she was see through. She wondered if the woman had seen her rustling the trees, and bringing down branches.  
“I was just thinking, when I heard you playing, I was drawn to come and listen, you know?”  
“It’s like a call to action, sort of,” said Vanya. It was certainly the truth, no matter if she was the caller, or the called.  
“Exactly!” Elise smiled, then shook her head, “I could talk about this all day sorry. I’m sure you’re busy.”  
“No! It’s fine. I mean— It’s all I think about— muscle memory and all that,” Vanya said, “I guess for me, I’m thinking less about the people listening, and more about what I’m hearing… Which might be sort of self centered…”  
“Ugh, so self centered!” Elise teased.  
Vanya laughed.  
“I don’t know. When I’m dancing, I’m thinking about myself and my body, but I guess that means that whatever I’m doing, if I’m putting thought into it, than the exterior product is beautiful to look at.”  
“That’s true,” Vanya replied, “I guess I tend to think that if I’m feeling it, than the audience must be feeling it too.”  
Elise nodded. Antonio pulled on the leash. “I guess I should get going, Tony probably wants to smell some new grass, isn’t that right bud?”  
“It was really nice to meet you,” said Vanya quietly. Elise didn’t hear her.  
“What was that? Oh! It was good to meet you too!” Elise said, “I’m Elise by the way. Elise Willard.”  
“Vanya Hargreeves.”  
Elise raised her eyebrow in recognition, but didn’t remark. She extended her hand, “It’s a pleasure Miss Hargreeves.”  
Vanya blushed, and shook Elise’s hand.  
“All right, take care!”  
“Bye!”  
And with that they parted. Vanya returned to her spot on the grass and sat down, watching as Elise and Antonio disappeared back into the woods. Disappointment fell over her, and as she resumed playing, she kept thinking about Elise. She thought about what she said about the body’s relationship to sound. She wondered what Elise looked like when she danced. She was probably very graceful. Her movements were fluid even when she walked. Vanya felt a deep need to know her better, or find her again somehow. 

Klaus returned to the apartment that night to find Vanya crouched over her laptop, scrolling through Facebook like she’s on a mission.  
“What’s up, you join the FBI or something?” he asked  
“Hey,” Vanya replied, “I’m looking for this woman I met in the park.”  
“Oooh la la, rebounding so soon after your late boyfriend?” he says, immediately interested. Vanya ignores him. He plops down on the couch beside her and peers at the screen.  
“Elise Willard?” He reads, “Is she a good dancer?”  
“She has a couple videos on her page. She’s very talented.”  
“Huh,” he says “So you didn’t actually see her dance in the park?”  
“No, but talked a lot about dancing,” she said, “She said she and her sister would dance together when their parents were out.”  
“Aw.”  
“She seemed like a really interesting person.”  
“So message her!”  
Vanya shook her head. “That would be creepy.”  
Klaus raised his eyebrows, “And this isn’t? How long have you been stalking her?”  
Vanya blushed. “I’m not stalking her.”  
“How long?”  
“I didn’t keep track, ok?”  
“God damn,” said Klaus mischievously, “If my senses don’t deceive me, I do believe you’ve got it bad.”  
Vanya snorted. “Why because I was curious about an interesting person?” she retorted.  
Klaus poked her side, “You’ve got all the signs, dear sister. My assessment is peak crushitude.”  
“I’m straight Klaus.”  
“Soon you’ll be writing lengthly messages to her only to delete them later, and wade in the sorrow of your own frailty.”  
“Oh my god.”  
“You’ll be staring longingly after her ass…”  
“Jesus christ, Klaus.”  
“You’ll be lusting after her sweet supple breasts,” Klaus continued, clearly exciting himself more than Vanya, seeing it all laid out before them, “You’ll be desiring, you’ll be writing poetry about the conquest of her succulent pussy. You—”  
“Ok. First of all Thats— wildly inappropriate,” Vanya interrupted, her blush deepening, “Second, I’m very straight, Klaus.I’ve only ever been attracted to men.”  
“One man,” Klaus muttered to himself, “And you killed that guy so…”  
“That’s not fair, and you know it,”  
“And yet you’re still here. You haven’t run off yet,” Klaus replied, “Ergo, something I’ve said must be true. Right? Right?”  
“No, not right,” Vanya snapped her laptop closed and stood abruptly, “Not Right. I’m going to bed. There’s leftovers in the fridge.”  
“Sweet dreams,” Klaus called after her, utterly tickled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think it's worthwhile to note that I'm doing a really, really bad job of depicting the true nature of trauma. In describing Vanya's healing process I can only draw from my own experiences with being manipulated, and I can only go off of what I've read about abuse. Please forgive me if any part of this story feels inaccurate. I'm also aware that in reality, after that much shit has happened to you, in many cases it might be sort of difficult and complicated to move on, or develop feelings for new people without the past experience interrupting. It's been years since I've interacted with the manipulative person from my own life, and yet the shadows from that experience still manage to render me very uncomfortable, and at it's worst, lost in a rabbit hole of Bad Memories. So I can only imagine what someone with much more goes through on a daily basis.   
> On top of all that, I think my creative wave is coming to a close, so I might just do another couple chapters and call it.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a very wee little chapter. Forgive me for being a lazy writer. I'm not good at establishing relationship.

About three weeks after their encounter in the park, Vanya and Elise had become fast friends. It was Elise who messaged first, to the utter shock of Vanya, who nearly spilled her tea over herself upon receiving the notification. They talked long into the night, messaging back and forth, and arranged to get coffee the following Friday.   
They laughed awkwardly about Vanya’s strange fame, and the strange fame of her family. Vanya tried to be as frank as possible, about herself and her own abilities, bracing herself for a prompt conclusion to their blossoming friendship, but Elise only laughed, and asked questions, and seemed intrigued without being nosy. She offered strange stories of her own life. She was open, and laughing, and unafraid to chuckle at the mutual absurdity of their lives. The more they talked, the more Vanya found herself finding Elise to be the most beautiful person she’d ever seen. She didn’t stand out, she was only a little taller than Vanya. Her skin was dark, her features delicate and plain, with a veneer of melancholy that broke instantly into mischievous grins and cackles. Vanya liked watching her tell stories. Her eyes turned slender, and her whole body moved, and she looked ever so much like an elf. Vanya felt utterly pleased to be in her presence.   
She’d never tell any of these details to Klaus, though, for fear of an outpour of accusations of “lesbian buffoonery” and “gross demonstrations of female love” and “plausibly illegal levels of tenderness.” And these accusations, of course, were wrong.   
“How was your date?” Klaus would ask cheekily.  
“Not a date,” Vanya would rebut.  
“Ok,” Klaus would reply, with a utterly annoying all-knowing-glint in his eye.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here is a chapter, please enjoy. She's a long one this time.

They walked home together, it was chilly so they walked quickly, hip to hip, shoulder to shoulder. Vanya’s cheeks were rosy, and they were giddy from the cold. They reached Elise’s apartment building. The trees around it were colored amber from the street lamps, and the iron gate cast a lacy shadow over Elise’s skin. When Elise breathed, Vanya saw her breath. She unlocked the gate, and they entered the little vestibule. Elise shook as if to rid herself of the cold and Vanya smiled.  
“You look like a penguin when you do that,” she remarked.  
Elise does it again, and they giggled. She unlocked her door, and they entered the dark apartment. It was much warmer inside. There was a window on the farthest wall that overlooked the tiny, rather dingy garden, and let in the yellow light from outside. Elise flicked on a lamp, kicked off her boots, and draped her coat over a chair.  
“Make yourself comfy,” she said, “You want something to drink?”  
“Sure,” said Vanya.  
“How does Irish Coffee sound?” Elise replied, entering her tiny kitchen, “It’s the best of both worlds, it’s hot and full of whiskey.”  
Vanya laughed, “Sounds good to me.” She sat at the counter as Elise fixed their drinks. Elise set the water to boil, and plucked a filter from the box. Vanya couldn’t help but watch her move. She had lovely, strong hands.  
“I was never a big drinker,” said Vanya.  
“No?”  
“No,” she replied, “It would interfere with my medication.”  
“Oh I see,” said Elise, “How about now?”  
“I think it’s alright,” Vanya chuckled, “considering I’m not taking it anymore.”  
“Oh yeah, definitely. But I mean… I don’t want to be the cause of a tornado, you know? I don’t think my landlord would appreciate it.”  
Vanya laughed, “I highly doubt I’ll cause a tornado.”  
“Just checkin,” Elise handed her, her drink, and sat next to her. They sipped in silence, the kind of silence that’s comfortable. Vanya sort of appreciated that Elise wasn’t always trying to convince her of anything. She found immense comfort in being with her, so much so, that it reminded her of the early moments with Leonard. The moment she thought of this, a torrent of mixed emotions conflated inside her. She felt heavy. She put down her drink for a moment, unsure of what to do. She felt the need to speak, to dispel the image from her mind somehow, but she wasn’t sure Elise was the right person to tell, or why she felt like she wanted to tell Elise so badly about how she was feeling. Vanya remembered her supposed bravery. That she’s powerful, and strong, and can do what she likes, though she never really felt that strong.  
Elise looked at her, “Are you ok?” she asked gently.  
Vanya’s heart rate rose, “Yeah,” she lied, “Is it alright if I tell you something heavy?”  
Elise smiled, “That’s what we’re doing this for, right?”  
Vanya nods, comforted a modicum, “I just— I’m thinking about Leonard again.”  
Elise clucked her tongue, “Fuck his bitch ass,” she said, taking a sip.  
“I know, I know,” Vanya smiled sadly, “It’s not like that… it’s more like— like I’m comparing… feelings.”  
Vanya looked at Elise, terribly unsure of what exactly she was feeling in that moment, or perhaps in denial, “I feel… happy…And this is going to sound awful, but I have this irrational fear that something bad is going to happen, like you’re going to try and— do something…”  
Elise put her cup down, looked Vanya in the eyes, and took her hand, “You’re allowed to be happy,” she said firmly, “It’s safe.”  
Vanya was struck by her closeness, and the tenderness of the gesture. She felt her chest tighten.  
“From what you’ve told me, it seems like Leonard was trying to create a situation in which you only felt loved by him and no one else.”  
“Yeah I know.”  
“And so he could isolate you, and control you.”  
“I know, I know,” Vanya said, “But that shit doesn’t just disappear, you know? It’s like— there— imbedded in me.”  
Elise nodded. “I watched it happen to my Mom,” she said, “All my dad ever did was make her feel guilty, and small.”  
“What about you?”  
Elise chuckled humorlessly, “He’d just tell me I was stupid,” she said, taking another sip, “And he’d look at me like I wasn’t worth his time. I tried really hard to make him proud, but eventually I realized it wasn’t worth it.”  
Vanya felt an ache of empathy. “Yeah,” she replied quietly.  
“But you know all about that, don’t you,” Elise said.  
Vanya didn’t say anything for a moment.  
“My dad was a bastard,” she said.  
“Cheers to that,” said Elise. Vanya smiled a little and they clink glasses.  
Vanya never ceased to be surprised by herself in those moments. She realized that Elise was still holding her hand, running her thumb across her knuckles, and she felt that pleasant ache in her chest again. She felt like, for all that had been said, there was something missing. She thought about speaking, about congealing the mass of thought and emotion. She thought that she shouldn’t be such an idiot, that if she really liked Elise, she should just admit it to herself. Followed by swarms of rebuttals, and fears that shoot her own self down like birds. She felt lost for a moment, within the panic of her mind, counting the moments until she’ll speak up, her throat fastened shut, her body suddenly made of warm gelatin.  
“When did you know you were gay?” she blurted.  
Elise smiles, startled, “Uhh, let’s see,” she says, “When I was about 7 I could never stop staring at the Victoria’s Secret models at the Mall. And when I was 11 I really liked this one girl in my class named Tina, like she was sort of masculine you know? She wore her hair in these long cornrows. She was sort of petite, but she played basketball better than the guys. I think I liked her because she was always really nice to me.” Elise smiled at the memory, “but when I was fifteen or sixteen I met this girl who hung out with some of the cooler kids at my school, and she invited me to some party. And I went, and got drunk, and she kissed me.”  
“So, always?” Vanya replied.  
Elise shrugged, “I never wanted to say it out loud,” Elise replied, “I told my sister when I was 19, after I’d moved away from home. And I told my friend TJ sooner than that.”  
“Right,” said Vanya, “Do you still stay in touch with her?”  
“No, not really,” Elise shook her head, “I quit the club, and we tried to make plans a couple times but it was too awkward.”  
Elise paused. “What about you? You ever have a crush on anybody?” Elise asked.  
Vanya felt her face heating and prayed she wasn’t blushing, “Not really.” she said. She feared if she spoke anymore, something might slip. But what would happen if you told her? she shouted at herself. EVERYTHING shouted another part, louder. “We never went to school. The only other kids my age I knew were my siblings.”  
“Right.”  
“I mean…” Vanya sighed, “I never even thought about having sex until I was like sixteen.”  
“Really?”  
“I never thought of myself— like— in a situation,” Vanya replied quietly, “It never crossed my mind really.”  
Elise was attentive, she waited for Vanya to elaborate. She didn’t. They sat in silence for long time.  
“Can I ask a question?” Elise asked tentatively, “You don’t have to answer if it’s too personal, or weird.”  
“Sure,” Vanya replied.  
“Do you… like having sex?”  
Vanya sighed, and looked away. She opened her mouth to reply, then closed it, and covered her face. “I don’t know.” she said, finally.  
“That’s fair,” Elise said. She finished her drink. “I think it’s time for another drink. You want one?”  
“Please.”  
With the second drink, Vanya didn’t necessarily feel her inhibitions dropping, but she felt the discomfort dissipating, if only a little. She remembered her supposed bravery again, and the prospect of telling Elise the great something that she felt and it filled her with a sensation like falling needles that left her unable to say anything at all. She thought at this point Elise might find her to be too much to possibly also have a similar feeling toward her. Elise was back in the kitchen, cheese on the counter, hunting around in the cabinet for some crackers, she was humming something. Almost instinctually, Vanya held onto the sound, and the sensation of falling needles gathered a presence in her body that felt poised to do almost anything.  
“Elise,” she said.  
“What’s up?”  
“I’m feeling so many things right now,” said Vanya.  
“That’ll be the whiskey,” chuckled Elise.  
Vanya laughed, a nervous sound. “I— have feelings for you, Elise,” she said breathlessly.  
Elise was silent. She approached the counter, crackers in hand, and set them down, looking Vanya in the eyes. It was hard to read Elise’s expression. There was longing, and incredulity together, and surprise. She furrowed her eyebrows momentarily, before relaxing again and shaking her head.  
“This is a bad fucking idea Willard,” she mutters to herself, seeming to undergo the same battle that Vanya did. “I have feelings for you too, Vanya,” She said finally. She said it matter-of-factly, but it carried with it a sense of being an incomplete statement.  
Vanya held her breath, searching Elise’s eyes for the other part. She thought she might blow clean off the face of the earth, no matter what Elise might've said at that point.  
“What are we gonna do about it, huh?” Elise asked, half to herself, half to Vanya.  
She seemed lost in time for a moment. Vanya’s heart racing, waiting for Elise to move, so do something. Dread filled her. She thought for a moment Elise had misspoken. Nothing felt right. Vanya steeled herself. After a minute that felt as if it lasted for a lifetime, Elise calmly turned her gaze away and retrieved a plate from the cupboard, and arranged the crackers and cheese as if nothing at all had happened. Vanya stared at her, scrutinizing her every gesture. Elise carefully avoided her gaze.  
“Elise?”  
“What’s up?” Elise said, “You want some gruyere?”

Vanya went home that night feeling as if static filled her body. She thought about nothing except the extraordinarily terse conversation that followed their extraordinarily terse exchange of declarations of affection. Vanya scarcely believed it to be true, but she was simultaneously filled with an utterly sinking feeling. She didn’t remember walking to the bus, or riding it.  
She was home. She kicked off her shoes. She lay on the couch, eyes wide open, exhausted but unable to fathom sleeping. She listened to the cars go by downstairs. She thought about Elise. She thought about feeling so deeply for her, and she thought about all the reasons why. And she thought about her confident manner, something about her that was so grounded. Her dimples when she smiled. Her perpetually large and melancholy eyes, and her simultaneously cheeky eyebrows. Vanya thought about being alone, on this couch, and her very real and tangible desire not to be. To experience Elise’s body next to her’s. To experience touch.  
Of all the things Vanya thought about that night that made her hurt, she didn’t once think of Leonard. 

 

Klaus came home in the wee hours of the morning, nautical dawn, just before the sun touched the planet. He opened the door as quietly as he could, and crept past the couch.  
“Hey,” said Vanya.  
“HOly Jesus,” Klaus hissed, nearly jumping out of his skin, “God this house is like fucking paranormal activity. I nearly shit myself.”  
“Sorry.”  
“What are you doing up? I thought you were at Elise’s.”  
Vanya shrugged in the darkness, but Klaus couldn’t see.  
“I came home,” said Vanya. When she didn’t elaborate, Klaus took it as a hint. He approached the couch cautiously and sat down next to Vanya, who was as still and cold as a statue.  
“Do you want to talk about it?”  
“I told her I had feelings for her.”  
Klaus was dead silent, having to physically force himself not to shower her with a rambunctious “I told you so.”  
Vanya drew in a breath, “And she told me she had feelings for me too…”  
Klaus gathered himself. Speaking with as serious a voice, as he could. “And I’m guessing, by the fact that you all aren’t fucking, that things—“  
“Didn’t go well. No.”  
“So what happened?” Klaus asked.  
“I don’t know, Klaus. I must’ve said it wrong,” said Vanya helplessly, “I don’t know. I was trying to be brave. I asked her when she knew she was gay. And she asked me if I’d ever had a crush on anyone, and I said no, and she asked me if I liked sex… and I said I wasn’t sure… God that was a stupid answer. That whole conversation was stupid, I shouldn’t have said anything—“  
“Hey, hey,” Klaus interrupted, “You were talking, and you were learning things about each other. That’s a thing that regular people do, right?”  
“But I just don’t know why things went the way they did,” Vanya said, her voice high and pitiful.  
Klaus thought for a moment before answering. He spoke as gently as he could. “You mentioned that she had that friend, right? The straight girl she’d had a crush on?”  
“You think, she thinks I’m pretending to like her?” Vanya asked miserably.  
“No, I didn’t say that—”  
“But you implied it,” Vanya said, “Fucking hell.”  
Vanya let herself fall back on the couch and was quiet for a moment.  
“I can’t even tell what I’m feeling, Klaus. I don’t even know if I’m straight, and if I’m leading her on or what.”  
“Excuse me, bisexuality exists,” Klaus said.  
“yeah but—“  
“This is a complicated situation, I know, but you know what you’re feeling, right?”  
“Yeah.”  
“And honestly, I think if Elise was a little more fucking sensitive, she’d know what you were feeling too, and she’d have been a bit more receptive.”  
“She has feelings for me though. She said so.”  
“Well maybe she has some shit going on that we don’t know about.”  
Vanya considered this.  
“Do you think she was weirded out by the ‘not knowing if I like sex’ thing?”  
Klaus groaned, “Will you fucking stop? Clearly she has some underlying neurosis that she's sorting through, that has nothing to do with you.”  
“But—“  
“Please shut up, before I throw myself out the window,” Klaus said, “God you’re not even in a relationship yet, and your proto-sapphic drama has already aged me ten years.”  
Vanya sighed heavily.  
“How was your night,” she asked finally.  
“So glad you asked,” Klaus said, “I still can’t find Dave.” Klaus’s words felt grave for a moment, before he returned to his usual lightness, “So my thirst for anyone else’s ass has been thoroughly subdued. I also can’t seem to muster up the balls to dive back into my addiction.”  
“So what have you been doing?”  
Klaus was quiet for a second.  
“Looking for…a job,” he said the words as if they were alien to him, as if they tasted wrong on his tongue.  
Vanya laughed, half impressed, but mostly incredulous. “Really?”  
“Don’t take that tone with me. I’ll have you know that I’ve been responsible at least one other time in my life.”  
“I don’t think so.” Vanya replied, still smiling, “Where did you look?”  
“Well, I went to the bookstore, then the hospice on 3rd, that I lived in for a few months, then the—“ Klaus gagged, “—The Wendy’s.”  
“Any luck with any of them?”  
“Not even the Wendy’s would hire me,” Klaus said, “I’m much too much.”  
“Aw.”  
“But the hospice said they’d let me volunteer, which is a polite way of saying, they don’t have any money to pay me.”  
“Maybe if you stay around long enough, they’d start paying you?” Vanya offered.  
“Who knows how long that’ll be,” Klaus paused, thinking, then sighed, “I don’t know what I’m doing,” he said quietly to the air. “It would be so much easier to just go back.”  
“It wouldn’t be the same,” Vanya replied.  
“How does one create a life?” Klaus mused.  
Vanya was twinged with slight annoyance at her brother’s sudden urge to wax philosophical.  
“I mean, how do normal people start?” He continued, “I guess they go to college. Get a degree. Find a job. Get a partner. Make a baby. Jesus fucking christ no wonder I stuck to drugs.” He rubbed his face, exhausted at the mere prospect, “some join the army. And then what?” He stared into the dark. “I don’t know what to do, Vanya.”  
Vanya sat up, sorting through what to say in reply. She didn’t really know what to do either, really. Prior to her father’s death, her purpose had been to play her violin, and teach her students, and pay her rent. She’d thought very little about anything else, except the occasional check that came in for a book sale, and she’d begin to think (often petulantly) about her family. She supposed Allison had it sorted out, sort of. She at least performed normalcy. Luther’s former purpose was on the moon. Diego’s purpose was to throw his goddamn knives and get his dick sucked. If Vanya thought about it, really, they were all devoid of purpose. Their father had made it their grand purpose to Save The World, and they’d done that. Vanya no longer had a reason to wield her immense power and was stuck hurling dressers at her brother when he annoyed her. Allison would live out the rest of her life in punishment for something she was born with. She’d been discussing this idea of purpose with her Therapist, and in conjunction with that, she’d started reading about the idea. She’d reached no conclusion on the state of her or her siblings though. Everything sort of spiraled back to their selfish monolith of a father, who orchestrated everything from their godlike glory, to their crushing ennui, to their own unique traumas.  
“We don’t have a purpose anymore,” said Vanya.  
“Damn, that’s dark,” said Klaus.  
“I mean, Dad made sure that your only purpose in life would ever be to Save the entire Planet, so everything else seems minuscule in comparison, right?”  
“That’s true,” replied Klaus. Somehow he felt that, while that had certainly been true in the past, it no longer bore weight in him as much as other things did. Namely the war. He knew where he’d lost his sense of purpose. He’d held that purpose in his arms and watched him die. Klaus felt that exhaustion again, and got up from the couch with an overwhelming need to sleep, and never wake up.  
“I’m gonna go to bed,” he said.  
“Ok,” Vanya said, surprised at his solemnity. She got up too, and went to her room so Klaus could reclaim the couch to sleep on. She padded through the dark apartment, and just before she shut the door to her bedroom, she caught a glimpse of her brother, hunched over with his face in his hands.


	7. Chapter 7

Vanya awoke late, a cottony drowsiness immediately hitting her. She rose, wrapping her duvet around her like a cloak, and shuffled to the kitchen to brew a bit of coffee. The voicemail beeped and she checked it.   
“Hey Vanya, It’s Elise.”  
Vanya brightened, then immediately her gut wrenched.   
“I’m just calling, I wondered if you wanted to grab a drink with me tonight, or tomorrow… Sorry if it’s last minute, or if you have plans… I feel like I gave you the completely wrong impression last night. There’s a lot I’m feeling right now, and I wish— I feel like I need to explain them face to face, or something… Anyway, call me back. Bye.”  
Vanya picked up the phone as quick as she could and redialed the number, waiting with baited breath for Elise to pick up. The dial tones trilled, each one felt like it lasted for hours. Finally Elise picked up, and Vanya released a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding.  
“Hey,” said Elise.   
“Hey,” said Vanya.  
Elise sighed, the sound crackling, then it turned into a laugh, “I really like you Vanya,” Elise said. Vanya’s skin tingled. “It’s really hard for me to describe why I reacted the way I did last night.”  
“I’m sorry I put all that on you, so much of what I said— you didn’t need to be burdened with all that,” Vanya rushed.  
“No, no! You don’t have to apologize!” said Elise, “I was thinking about it all night, I couldn’t even sleep— I think what I realized was, you— I really enjoy hearing you talk about yourself, and I love how open you are with me.”  
“Thanks.”  
Elise paused, seemingly reluctant to continue, “But like… we’ve been swapping old family tales from the get go but, like, because I know that we have feelings for each-other, it puts it in a new light, you know?”   
“Yeah, totally,” Vanya replied. She was quiet, contemplating, she held onto Elise’s words.   
“I just wanted to be sure, that I was ready. And if that makes me a selfish person I guess I’m selfish,” Elise chuckled to herself, “Maybe, I should’ve asked you, if you were ready… Or maybe that’s another thing that I was thinking about last night, I was wondering if you were ready…For whatever this might be.”  
“I’m ready,” Vanya replied, then thought for a moment. The words came from a deeper part of herself. “I… I’m not a super easy person to be around… sometimes.” She said. The silence was palpable.   
“Ok,” said Elise finally, there was a softness to her reply that permeated through the phone and settled in Vanya’s depth.   
“I think sometimes I tend to react to bad things by shutting down,” said Elise.   
“Ok,” Vanya nodded, an inexplicable smile forming. “I’m always worried people are going to abandon me.”  
Elise laughed a little, “Ok, well,” she said, “I have a history of abandoning things.”  
“Shit,” Vanya said with her own sort of giddy sarcasm,“I guess this isn’t gonna work out.”  
Elise laughed again, “Too bad. To think I spent the better part of last night wondering what it would be like to kiss you.”  
Vanya nearly dropped the phone, and she felt her heart palpitate against her ribs.   
“Oh my— I um—“  
Elise cackled, evilly.   
Vanya cleared her throat. “I did too,” Vanya replied, through an uncontrollable grin, her face beet red. It took all the strength she could muster to utter a reply that didn't cause her temperature to rise to a point where she melted into the floor. She felt brand new, like they were teenagers giggling over something naughty.   
“So how about that drink? You busy tonight or what?”  
“No I can free up some time,”  
“Oh! if you have plans—“  
“I absolutely don’t, it’s just Klaus.”  
“Ah.”  
“And to be honest I think he’ll be more excited than we are.”  
Elise chuckled. “Alright, well, how about we meet at that little pub on 11th. And we can start over.”  
“That sounds really good,” Vanya said.  
“Ok, see you tonight.”  
“Bye,” said Vanya.  
“Bye.”  
Vanya put the phone down as carefully as she could before her entire being dissolved into a mound of tingling nerves and she felt the overwhelming need to dance, which she did, very poorly, an expression of unhindered glee.   
“What on earth are you doing?” Klaus asked, bleary eyed.  
“Nothing.” Vanya stopped immediately.   
Klaus squinted at her, scratching the back of his head, and shuffling over to the tiny counter to pour himself some coffee.  
“Klaus,” she said.  
“Vanya,” he replied, “Why are you saying my name?”  
“Klaus, I have a date tonight.”  
“FUCK,” Klaus immediately lit up, “HOLY SHIT.” And as if the skies themselves had opened up for him, he sank to his knees, and clasped his hands together in reverence, pontificating an endless stream of semi-nonsense “Ladies and Gentlemen, and other distinguished members of this fine congregation, I’d like to thank Jesus, first of all, for being the OG twink, and I’d like to thank Donna Summer and the entire era of disco for being in my sister’s playlist one too many times for her to come out heterosexual. Oh my god, the clouds have parted, he’s going to anoint you with a gentle rain of beautiful and athletic pussy, oh my god, it’s all happening. Oh shit, there’s so much to tell you, oh shit, um, use a dental dam, uh, use swift circular motions, make sure to give her presents, and love her dearly— She seems like a great woman, I think you’ll make a great couple… though I haven’t actually met her, I’m sure she’s lovely—“  
Vanya couldn’t get him to shut up, through her laughing, and he continued to go on until he wore himself out, and they were both rosy and grinning harder than they had in a long time.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's some sexual content in this chapter, ya'll.

As they had the night before, They returned to Elise’s apartment, with their fingers linked together, almost wordless, and filled with anticipation. Vanya felt as if she no longer possessed a body, but all materiality had drifted away leaving nothing but a cone of solid energy. Once inside, Elise kicked off her shoes, hung up her coat, and turned to Vanya with a comically serious expression. Vanya attempted to match the look, causing both of them to break into giggles. Elise composed herself.  
“Can I get you anything? You want some water?”  
“Sure,” Vanya replied, through a grin.  
They sat on the couch, sipping their water in silence like it was fine wine. Vanya sneaking glances at Elise and pretending that she wasn’t. She felt utterly like a teenager, unsure of what to do, or what to initiate, or when, or if it was the right time. The distance between them was palpable, Vanya was acutely aware of the spacial relationship between herself and Elise, and she played the action of moving closer, and touching her, over and over in her head, pressure mounting inside her. Finally, she put her glass down, feeling like a fool, and looked bravely at Elise, whose dark, half expectant eyes were cast upon her. Her eyebrows were raised, her face a mask of poorly hidden desire. A little smile couldn’t help but curl around her lips, and she made an executive decision. Elise closed the distance between them, raising her hand to push a lock of hair from Vanya’s face. Vanya blushed at the tickle of her fingers against her cheek. She felt light. In a smooth, almost instantaneous moment, Elise leaned forward and planted a lingering kiss at the side of Vanya’s mouth. Vanya’s heart stopped. As Elise pulled away, Vanya felt a tidal wave of desire building over her brim, a tightness in her chest, an ache that began to warm between her legs.   
She was unable to speak, only follow Elise’s movement, as if they were connected by string.   
Elise kissed the other side of her face, moving her lips from the corner of her mouth, to her jaw. Small kisses, as if she were mapping Vanya’s face. She completed her journey by returning— Vanya’s eyes fluttered shut, her lips parted slightly— moving so close that Vanya felt her presence glimmer on her own lips before she kissed her. Elise tasted like wine. Vanya found herself gripping onto her waist as if she were a ribbon tied to a reed. Elise’s kisses deepened, lingering, each parting felt like the world rushing back, only to be twirled away. Vanya pulled at Elise, seeking leverage, heat pounding from inside her body. Finally they parted, still close, every sound of breath was amplified, so they barely breathed. Finally Elise smiled, her eyes glittering, and, Vanya exhaled a laugh, and tried desperately to let her body relax, but found she was as full of latent energy as a copper coil.   
Elise cleared her throat. “Sorry I didn’t ask if it was alright with you—“ she started.  
Vanya shook her head vigorously, “I really, really didn’t mind.”  
Elise laughed, eyes sparkling. She seemed to pause a moment. “Can I do it again?” she asked.  
Vanya blushed, and as smoothly as if it were destined, Vanya kissed Elise in reply. Vanya felt each breath that she took like millions of jingling bells, the closeness of Elise’s body that emanated her heat, her skin, her smell, her hands carding through Vanya’s hair. Elise parted her lips slightly, shifting ever closer and tilting her head slightly; the new proximity sending a jolting ache down the center of Vanya’s body. She must’ve reacted, Elise’s hands were suddenly at Vanya’s chest, just resting above her breasts, hovering near the buttons of her blouse. Vanya felt the heat of them through her shirt and suddenly she felt a rushing that escalated to a buckling and unbalanced feeling of both desire and stabbing fear. Vanya flinched away, her eyes fluttering wide open. Elise looked startled.   
“Sorry—“ Vanya started, breathless.  
“It’s ok!” said Elise, she reached to touch Vanya, then thought better of it.  
Vanya averted her eyes, suddenly painfully aware of her position, “I’m sorry,” she repeated. She knew why she’d reacted in that way. She couldn’t bear to say it aloud. If she said it than the memory would return, and it would follow her with a scowl and black eyes and corpse’s hands—   
“There’s nothing to be sorry about,” said Elise kindly. She moved her head to meet Vanya’s gaze, and took her hand, smiling, “If we’re going to fast, that’s more than understandable.”  
Vanya shut her eyes and took a shake breath in and out. Finally, she leaned forward, and rested her forehead against Elise’s shoulder.   
After a pause: “Thank you.” She said.   
“No problem,” Elise chuckled, wrapping her arms around Vanya’s back.   
They remained like that for a while, neither of them minded, the heady shimmer of their small intimacy returning in phases.  
“I’m gonna go to bed…” Elise said with words unsaid after; as if it were an invitation.   
Vanya’s heart fluttered. “Ok,” she replied. And then, with deep reluctance, as if the words were dragging, “I guess I should head out.” She barely moved a muscle to move away.   
“Yeah,” said Elise, hardly moving her arms.   
They were quiet for a moment.   
“I don’t actually want to go,” said Vanya.   
Elise breathed a chuckle of relief, “I’m so glad you said that. I don’t want you to go either.”  
Vanya laughed.   
Elise cleared her throat, “I’m gonna go to bed,” she repeated. They parted finally, if it could be called such, their shoulders curved toward each other, their hands and knees touching, as if every atom were charged toward one another.   
“You’re uh… welcome to join me…” Elise continued, “If that’s something you’re comfortable with, of course…”  
“I’d like that,” said Vanya through a little smile.  
“It’s just, that my couch is a little uncomfortable to sleep on,” Elise said.   
“Of course.”  
“And I don’t really have an extra blanket, that’s clean…”  
“Totally.”  
“So sleeping in the same bed would be the most economical decision.”  
“Right. No funny business,” said Vanya.  
“Absolutely not. In fact, completely platonic. Heterosexual, even.”  
Vanya laughed and rose from the couch, a little tingly. Entering Elise’s bedroom felt strange, like the lightness had dropped away again, and the old familiar ache in Vanya’s chest returned. Elise hunted through her dresser for an extra shirt, and Vanya sat on the bed, unbuttoning her blouse with fingers that felt suddenly like they were made of wood. She stared at a spot on the floor, unsure of what she was doing or why, seemingly driven by a deep need for something. She pulled the shirt from her shoulders and folded it, and put it next to her. She felt her bare arms alight in goosebumps. She heard Elise stop rifling through the drawer. She felt her heart in her throat.   
“Hey Elise?” she asked quietly, “Can we… just sleep like this?” She asked.   
Silence.  
“You sure?”  
Vanya nodded.   
Elise crossed over to the other side of the bed, pulling off her own shirt, and shimmying out of her jeans. Vanya watched, and the mere act of watching felt as though a warm fog had descended on her. She felt that fear and desire welling up again. She wanted to be as near to Elise as possible, to know every inch of her skin, and at the same time she wanted desperately to flee. She felt the threat of that memory creeping at her consciousness like bile and Vanya shut her eyes again. She opened her eyes and Elise was standing before her, looking down at her, her belly very close to Vanya’s face. In the light of the bedroom, Elise’s looked as if she were made partially of gold. With asking hands, Vanya reached forward and brushed her fingertips over Elise’s skin. Elise’s breath hitched. Vanya met Elise’s eyes, and kissed the spot on her belly, slowly, and with intention. She seemed to feel Elise’s entire body beneath her lips, she thought she felt a pulse. Vanya kissed another spot, and another, Elise’s body ebbing and flowing with Vanya’s. Vanya moved upward, her hands lacing over Elise’s waist, and examining each of her ribs, and every divot in her torso, every spot completed with a kiss. Elise attempted to remain as silent as possible, she didn’t dare tell Vanya that it tickled terribly, for fear that all that would come out would be a nearly orgasmic gasp. Vanya had begun to tremble a little bit, clearly holding something in of her own, her touch careful and hesitant. She had risen to her feet, and pulled their bodies against one another, or very nearly, so the air between them was unbearable. Vanya had paused. Elise thought she could practically hear Vanya’s heart pounding. Her skin was flushed. Elise did speak, then.  
“Can I touch you?” Elise asked.   
Vanya felt herself bursting, her skin prickling in an orchestra of yes, “Please.” she said.   
Elise grinned. She made short work of Vanya, closing any semblance of distance between them. Gravity brought them to the bed, their legs tangled together, Vanya’s entire body completely warm, her limbs like wax warmed beneath Elise’s fingers. Elise was patient, though she hardly needed to be, as she mouthed at Vanya’s throat, she felt Vanya’s sighs become audible beneath her lips. Elise seemed to be everywhere at once. She murmured questions against Vanya’s ear, each one with such an earnest intimacy that it sent Vanya into spirals.   
“I’m gonna eat you out, ok?” Elise said.   
Vanya was nearly yanked out of the room, “Yeah, ok. That’s fine.” she sputtered, “Please. Do that.”   
Elise’s hands were cool, Vanya felt every inch like ice as they glided down Vanya’s torso, she felt her skin tighten, and every muscle contract. She forced herself to stay still, as Elise pulled down her underwear and laid her tongue against her clit. She had to force herself to not cry out at that very moment as dull waves began to rock her. Elise held onto Vanya as her pace quickened, at some points, and slowed, and Elise sometimes became achingly gentle and slow. By the end, Vanya was completely at Elise’s mercy, she felt light like she was made of styrofoam, Elise held her by the hips, coaxing moans out of her with the merest flick of her tongue. She felt her body like it was made of a thousand mirrors catching the light. Elise stopped, at some point, and lay next to Vanya whose eyes were shut, and her cheeks rosy.   
“Oh my god,” said Vanya.  
Elise laughed and covered her face.  
“Please let me do that to you.”  
Elise flushed, “I’m fine with that,” she said.  
Vanya sprung into action, repeating her careful survey of Elise’s body, now fully aware the effect it has on her. Elise dared to let a moan slip. Vanya attempted to do unto Elise what was done onto her. She tasted Elise, savoring her like a rich wine, losing herself in the slick and delicate folds. She hardly knew what she was doing, but she felt Elise sighing, and continues.   
“Move just a little bit up,” Elise said at one point, followed by Vanya’s hasty correction, “oh fuck, you got it.” 

They lay next to each other, still entangled, under the blankets. The moon and the streetlights cast shadows into the room. Vanya, through heavy eyes, watched Elise’s face as she dreamt. She could barely sleep, when she shut her eyes she felt the immediacy of their intimacy fading, and she couldn't bear to let it go yet. She still felt Elise’s body near her’s, wrapped in her smell, like coconut soap, and sweat and musk, and an indeterminable earthy smell that Vanya would gladly drown in. She nestled closer, lulled by the sound of her breathing. She watched the light as it fell over Elise’s features, and for some reason remembered her initial discomfort. Vanya furrowed her brow against the intrusion and made a declarative promise in that moment. It was a promise without words, more a singular feeling. Vanya felt happy.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one has a bit of emotional exposition. I think this is the second to last chapter. We'll round it all out with the next one. Lot's of sweetness to come.

The moments in the beginning had felt extended, far and wide, time growing stagnant and swollen. Vanya had slept the days and nights away, plagued by a headache that wasn’t so much a pain, but a deep discomfort that translated to a desire to disintegrate into the vein of the world, and never return. She didn’t want to die, but she didn’t want to live either, it was too tiring. Her body had suddenly felt too small for this massive object of power within her, and she found it easy, in those moments to separate herself completely from it. As if to fragment mind, body, and that awful energy, and stare down at herself, sleeping, or eating, or playing. She could watch herself think about Leonard, and suddenly her mind was yanked a thousand miles into the past and there she would remain, as if trapped.   
She really, really didn’t like feeling trapped. 

Winter had brought more warmth than the past years had ever brought Vanya. Her house felt more cosy with Klaus living in it, and Elise stopping by regularly. She felt herself growing— if she’d once been minuscule and paper thin, she now felt as if she possessed a body at least. She felt less and less as if she were a separate entity from her own mind. Through it all, though she still felt the eyes of her past on her. She felt eaten from within, a gnawing that had slowed, but persisted. She still did not think of herself kindly. Vanya wondered at all times why anyone would want to be around her, and yet she was not yet ready to be alone. She felt, more than ever, that shaking hand inside her grappling in the dark for something solid to hold onto. She felt at any moment, that Elise might turn against her: change faces, grow claws, attempt to gobble her up in their sleep, but it never, ever happened. When Vanya awoke and called Elise, Elise was always on the other end with a sleepy and happy “hello” and suddenly, the fear would dissipate. Vanya could breathe again, and she was left with another feeling, a feeling of wonder and glittering pleasure. She tried to express this wonderment:  
“I can’t believe you went for someone like me.”   
And Elise would only shake her head as if she was bewildered and delighted in return. She might cluck Vanya’s chin, or her face. She might say nothing at all. Because, how could she respond? She wanted desperately to express to Vanya her singularness, but more than anything, she waited for the day that Vanya would realize it on her own, and she wasn’t sure when that might be, and she ached because of it. It wasn’t something that would be overnight, certainly not. Within Vanya there would always be a a film of self-doubt, and the deep seated feeling of insufficiency, no love would change that. Or some love might keep it at bay, or mutual support would make it irrelevant… Who was to say what change came by the hand of others or by one’s own healing. All of them, Klaus, Elise, and Vanya, knew it, and recognized phases of it within themselves. Elise knew well the kind of trouble Vanya might be experiencing. She knew that feeling of smallness. She recognized the desire to keep her head down and avoid eye contact with any other being. With Vanya, she felt comradeship, they felt almost on the same footing, hip to hip and shoulder to shoulder. Eye to eye. Vanya was full of raw and chaotic power, constantly swinging from awful to splendid in instants. Elise got the sense that Vanya was full of those contradictions, and it was, in the end, these contradictions that made her so wonderful. Elise enjoyed the complexity and strangeness in the world. She didn’t mind a bit of tension.   
And thus the two of them got along well. Vanya found it fantastic to watch Elise dance. Her range of motion was immense. From the way she grinned as she did the two step in the kitchen with a half cut carrot in hand, to the look of strained serenity as she stretched her body into magnificent contortions. More than her grace, Vanya was utterly pleased with Elise’s depth of understanding, and the way she understood and read her emotions the way she understood and read her own body. She wasn’t one to talk around anything. She was frank. She was calm. At moments, sometimes while she was practicing her artform, Vanya saw the calmness break a bit, and like snow falling away from a window, an unreadable expression of… something… would emerge, that seemed to mirror Vanya’s internal expressions precisely. Something like being struck by a memory, unable to separate the beautiful from the painful. Far from shedding tears over, but far from being awash in the distancing curtain of time. Just uncomfortable and looming, and heavy. The first time Vanya saw this look, she felt as if she’d been pierced through the chest. Elise had made eye contact with her while on stage, and it felt as if the world stopped. She thought that moment would serve as a decent comparison for what it felt like to wield her power. 

As for Klaus, he was sporadic in his search for work. he found the process tedious. Perhaps he’d be paid for the odd job here and there. He seemed to find decent money in being a Séance, and Vanya pressed him to keep doing it, but he continuously brushed her off. It wasn’t particularly a job that he found joy in doing. Seeing the dead was much more closer to a chore than a happy hobby. Klaus worried about burdening his sister by living with her, despite never hearing her protest. Vanya certainly didn’t mind. Klaus mostly paid for his own meals— however or wherever he got the money.   
It was difficult to follow Klaus. His days were marked so much less by what he did, but by what he felt. He was used to being guided by visceral desires, his nose to the ground, unconscious of others, and bitterly conscious of himself. But if that life had been the pursuit of tactile pleasures, and respites, in this new life he almost felt bodiless. Well, he’d always felt a bit that way. He felt his body when it was alight in sweat, when his skin crawled, when his brain swelled inside his skull, and when he no longer possessed control of his vision. He felt his body when he was with Dave. Dave was like the ground. He was like the soil and rain. He was all wide smiles, and large hands, and broad shoulders, and full of a profound kindness that Klaus had only dreamt of receiving. Dave was ready to love him unconditionally nearly from the moment they’d met, and Klaus would've died for him, or better yet, he was prepared to live for Dave. To live and live, with Dave until they were old. There was little time to have very many quiet private moments, but when they did they spoke of a mystic house with wooden floors, right near the ocean. A place of respite. It was too early to make grand declarations of love or partner-hood, but when they looked at each other, they each saw that respite, and they seemed to know it without having to say anything at all. And so when Dave touched Klaus, it felt as though Klaus had gained a body, he felt almost completely complete.   
Klaus was no longer afraid of the ghosts, because when Dave was died, Klaus felt himself die as well.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just some bants in the kitchen. They'll have dinner in the next one. Sorry it took so long to post (is there anyone still reading? :o )

“Please can I meet her?”  
“You’ve already met her,”  
“No, I mean like talk to her. Like ask her questions and shit.”  
Vanya snorted, “Good Lord, no.”  
Klaus looked at her like she was the dumbest person on the planet. “Why not?” he asked.  
Vanya shrugged, evasive, “It would be weird, I don’t know.”  
Klaus gave Vanya an exasperated sigh, “It would not be weird, for the last time. I just want to know she’s not going to convince you that you're the second child of God or some shit, or force you to initiate the rapture. Or lure you out to a cabin and make you attack another sibling.”  
“Klaus, you’re not funny,” said Vanya sharply, “I understand that you’re trying to be funny right now, but you’re just pissing me off.”  
Klaus chuckled, “You’re being evasive.”  
“I am not!” Vanya snapped, “Is it so wrong to want to keep personal things personal? You’ve met her. She’s met you. That’s that. The Family Shit stays away from my relationship.”  
Klaus blinked in mock offense, “you dare lump me in with the Family Shit? I am my own independent dump, thank you very much.”  
“And that’s why she can’t meet you,” Vanya said by way of retort.  
Klaus shut up, his expression a mixture of surprise, and a bit of pride at having been effectively roasted by his mousy sister. He crossed his arms.  
“Sooo… You don’t want her to interact with me… because you’re ashamed?  
of me?”  
Vanya sighed, “I didn’t mean that—“  
“Well, what did you mean?”  
“I meant— if you had let me fucking finish— that we as a collective have a lot of family shit, and I don’t want to have to explain it all.”  
Klaus snorted, “What do you guys never talk? Doesn’t she know at least some of it?”  
“Well, yeah but—”  
“Does she know about dad?”  
“Yeah.”  
“And mom? and Pogo?”  
“Yeah, I guess—”  
“She knows that Luther is a genetically modified half gorilla?”  
“Yes but—.”  
Klaus begins to count on his fingers, “that I can see dead people, that Diego is a masked vigilante, and that five is a, well a fucking child, and that Luther tried to kill you, and you tried to kill all of us, especially Allison, and that you did actually kill—“ Klaus made a hissing sound before uttering the words—“The Ex.”  
Vanya began to look deeply uncomfortable, and Klaus paused his counting.  
“I guess she knows most of that,” Vanya said finally. Her statement was incomplete, but Klaus took the opportunity to butt in.  
“So…?”  
Vanya sighed deeply.  
“There’s nothing to worry about,” Klaus said lightly.  
“I guess not,” Vanya paused, “I never know how to tell her anything.” She said.  
“We’ve got a lot of shit.”  
“yeah…” said Vanya, “I’m terrified that I’ll scare her away…”  
“And have you?”  
“No,” said Vanya, “but then again, I haven’t really gone into detail. She doesn’t know what I’m truly capable of… murder— and all that.” Vanya became quiet, and cold, “She also doesn’t, like, know… what I did to Pogo. And mom.”  
“Oh.” Klaus said.  
They were quiet for a second. Klaus was tempted to tell her that murder was no biggie, but that seemed too facetious even for him. Instead he made a rather wise remark.  
“This is a really complicated circumstance. I wasn’t even mad when it happened, really. I was sort of confused and upset, but never questioned why, you know? You were confused too, and betrayed…”  
“I lashed out,” said Vanya quietly.  
“Yeah, and it had consequences,” said Klaus frankly, “I’m assuming you’ve learned. The past is the past, and the point is, that if you feel comfortable telling her about this aspect of your life, than you should do it. But otherwise, there’s no need.  
Vanya nodded, and was serious for a moment before her face cracked into a smirk. “When did you become the wise and responsible one?”  
Klaus threw his hands up in mock frustration, “Well, as you can see, no one else is really around to fill that role, Vanya.”  
“Allison?”  
“Fuck no.”  
They laughed, adding that to the list of jokes that their dear sister would Not appreciate.  
“Now can you please invite Elise over for dinner, or wine, or something?”  
“I guess so.”

 

“Klaus want’s to meet you,” said Vanya, her tone was that of a reluctant child being forced to apologize.  
Elise laughed, “We’ve met already, though.”  
“No, he like, wants to have dinner or wine or something.”  
“Aw.”  
“He says he want’s to get to know you so that you don’t, and I quote ‘ try convince me that I’m the second child of God and force me to initiate the rapture’ end quote,” Vanya said, cracking a smile at Elise cracking up on the other end.  
“Ok, well” she said through her chortles, “I’d love to put those accusations to rest in person.”  
“Great,” Vanya replied, her tone so monotone that Elise started chuckling again. Vanya grinned.  
“Do you all have a date in mind?” Asked Elise.  
“Can you do tomorrow evening?” Vanya replied.  
“I have work until 5—I can come around then. Do you want me to bring anything?”  
“Only if you want to. Neither of us really know how to cook that well. We’ll probably end up getting drunk and ordering takeout.”  
“Doesn’t actually sound that bad,” Elise replied, “But there’s that chili recipe that I made that one time—“  
“Holy Shit. I’ll never forget that chili.” Vanya had fond memories associated with the night Elise made chili. It was fantastic indeed, but Vanya would forever associate chili with being a particular Thing Elise had done with her tongue that made Vanya shiver to this day.  
Elise laughed, “Can I make it at your place?”  
“Sure! Do you want me to get anything?”  
“Do you have beans?”  
“I think so— lemme check”  
Elise heard a clanging on the other end as Vanya opened and closed cabinets.  
“I have a single can of black beans.”  
Elise chuckled again, “Alright, you buy some more beans. Two cans of red beans.”  
“I’m on it.”  
“thank you, Vanya.”  
“Sure! Thanks for making chili.”  
“No problem,” Elise replied, “Ok… I’ve gotta get back to work, my lunch break is getting long.”  
“Ok.” Vanya replied. She was surprised by how disappointed she was, “I can’t wait to see you tomorrow.”  
“I’m excited to see you too. It’s been a whole four days.”  
Vanya laughed, “Ok, bye.” and without meaning to, “love you.”  
There was a pause.  
“That slipped out. Oops. see you tomorrow.” Vanya hung up as soon as she could, her face as red as a beet.  
“Shit,” she hissed, “Shit. Goddamn it.”  
Klaus appeared out of nowhere grinning ear to ear. “You’re fucked.”  
Vanya shoved him with more viciousness than she meant, and he skidded out of the kitchen.  
“I meant in the best way possible. Jesus Christ. God forbid I use a double entendre in this fucking house. ” He stalked back to the living room and plopped on the couch.


End file.
